All we can do is live
by Mizuki-Kuran
Summary: After the failure to bring their mother back, Ed poured his feelings onto a piece of paper. Years later, after the incident in the 5th Labrotory, Al finds the paper Ed worked hard to hide. What will happen? ((FMA: Brotherhood timeline))
1. How can I repay you?

Ed lay in the hospital bed. His arm and leg were gone. And his brother was a suit of armor. Ed's honey colored eyes wavered with unshed tears and uncertainty. Why had it all gone wrong? Why? Why couldn't they use Alchemy to bring their mother back? Why did she have to die? Why had their Father not been there?

At the thought of the man they hadn't seen in so long, the tears of pain became those of anger and his one good fist clenched. Hohenheim had left them. He left their sweet, beautiful mother to die. He never even bothered to be there for her funeral.

In fact, if he would think of it, this was Hohenheim's fault. If he'd been there, the two would have had someone at least. A family member to make them feel loved instead of alone. If their father had been there, the cost might not have been paid to start with. Ed, however, was to determined to hate his father, and blame himself, to think of such a possibility.

Alphonse's glowing pink eyes seemed scrunched as if in worry. All the emotions in Edward Elric's small body were jumbled. He couldn't make up his mind between rage and sorrow. But the sight of his brother, and the hollow shell his soul inhabited, marked with a blood seal, made his emotions waver to sorrow. It was all his fault. It was his fault his brother became that shell.

More than anything, even his limbs, he wanted his brothers forgiveness. But how could he even ask? He was terrified. It made his blood want to run cold in his veins. Al would never forgive him.

He looked towards the now taller sibling. He wanted to ask, to give voice to every thought in his mind, but he knew his brothers words; "Brother no! Please don't talk like that!"

_Its all my fault, Al….Its all my fault.. So I'll do whatever it takes to get your body back!_

And no matter what, he was determined to never make his brother worry again. Once his arm and leg were healed, Winry was supposed to equip him with an Automail arm and leg. The sooner the better to him, he hated feeling helpless as he currently was, laying in a hospital bed with the improvised body of his little brother beside him.

_Humankind cannot gain anything without first sacrificing something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost. That is Alchemy's first law of equivalent exchange. _

The first rule of Alchemy blazed into his head as he looked towards his brother. Something of equal value, huh? So his arm equaled the cost of his brothers soul? That seemed almost like a cruel joke. A limb was equal to a soul. There was the worlds cheapest joke.

Letting out a soft grunt as he sat up, something that jolted the quiet Alphonse out of his stupor and sent a pair of concerned glowing eyes his way, he looked around. "Al.. could you tell one of the nurses to get me a scrap of paper?"

His almost perky voice belayed all the suffering emotions writhing in his soul. He needed to relieve those tortured voices in his mind as soon as possible. He believed his knew a way to ease his mind, but he needed Al to help out.

A startled, confused noise was released from his brothers voice before he left the room. As he left the open door, Ed called after him. "And a pen to write with!"

After what seemed forever, Al returned, a notebook and pen in his leather hands. Setting them down, he regarded his sibling with his best look of concern. Ed flashed him a small smile before trying to think of a reason to be alone for a few minutes.

He didn't want to be away from the sibling he almost lost, but he knew the words he wanted to write would only worry his brother more than he already was. His mind worked quickly and he looked at the almost stone face of the armor.

"Al, could you get Winry and Granny? I want them to help me start planning my Automail."

If Al didn't believe him, he didn't show it. He merely nodded and ran out, promising to be back. Once his heavy footsteps faded, Ed took the pen to the paper with a fury unrivaled. Words poured from the soul, expressing every fear in his heart.

Of course, writing with one arm was hard, but he was stubborn. He used his good arm to hold the page down while he wrote.

_How can I repay you, brother mine?_

_How can I expect you to forgive?_

_Clinging to the past, I shed our blood_

_And shattered your chance to live._

_Though I knew the laws I paid no heed_

_How can I return your wasted breath?_

_What I did not know has cost you dear_

_For there is no cure for death_

_Beautiful mother, soft and sweet_

_Once you were gone we were not complete_

_Back through the years we reached for you_

_Alas t'was not meant to be_

_And how can I make amends, for all that I took from you?_

_I led you with hopeless dreams,_

_My brother I was a fool…_

Each word written, brought new tears to the blonds eyes. Every single fear in his heart had been laid bare on a piece of paper. Ripping the page out, he fought with it, finally managing to fold it small enough to hide, just as Al returned with the Rockbell's. As the door slid open, he slipped the paper under his leg for the time being, When he had the chance, he would hide it somewhere more permanent, more private.

Al regarded his brother with mild suspicion at his to quick movements when the door opened, an action that exposed Granny and Winry. Ed had moved from the notebook to quickly for Al to not be suspicious. To make matters more suspicious, the same book was devoid of any pen strokes.

Al didn't have time to dwell on it much longer though, since he heard Ed's already stubborn voice. "I want the surgery." It was still barely any time since the transmutation had failed, Ed still had not fully recovered enough for the surgery, but of course, Edward Elric was one of the most stubborn people ever. God -not that they put much stock in him/her/it anyway- only knew how easy Ed would take it in the seven months of required healing time for the Automail and the surgery to fully allow recovery.

But again, how could anyone explain that to him? Winry was happily chattering away about the design she had come up with for the new arm and leg. According to her mile an hour chatter, the design was completely her own, adding to its uniqueness to the Rockbell name. Her grandmother, for the most part, watched silently, adding in her two cents every now and then when Winry forgot it, or asked for aid.

Ed'd life would be almost a living hell in the months to follow. He had two surgeries to go through, nerves to rejoin when the Automail connected, which was supposed to be a few seconds of extreme pain, and then the practice of using an arm and a leg again.

Al knew he had no other choice but to be by his siblings side, though he wouldn't rather be anywhere else. He would never have to go through the suffering Ed was going to be put through just to get back on his feet. He was a suit of armor, his body would never break, unless forced, nor would he feel pain. Edward, on the other hand, was still flesh and blood, he could get wounded so easily, and his body seemed really frail, though his will was strong as an ox. Together, they could make it through this, and get their bodies back. They just had to. But first, Ed's limbs.


	2. Don't cry for the past

-_**Several Years Later**_-

Edward was once again in a hospital bed. His Automail had been malfunctioning, and was awaiting repair. Laboratory Five was abandoned. That was a joke. Tell that to the suit of armor with two brothers bonded in it. The same two that Ed had watched die. The two that reached desperately for one another as their lives ended a second time. Tell that to the heartbreak Ed felt at that moment, knowing he would do the same thing for Al. Tell that to the raspy voiced male who mercilessly stabbed the second brothers blood seal time after time as his hands twitched, his dying thoughts still on his sibling. He dared anyone to tell him that the human transmutation circle in the center of it all was just his imagination. The screaming of the countless souls that seemed to echo in those walls was just his imagination? No way in hell.

Edward's left hand clenched. He still couldn't move his right arm, well, aside from the fingers. The metal limb hung limply in a sling, unused. Winry was going to beat him senseless when she saw that. Not to mention, charge him a small fortune for a rush order.

Well, at least he was in the hospital. What better place to receive a beating than somewhere where medical attention is already given? Though, he'd had more than enough attention, and milk, since entering the hospital to last a lifetime. He couldn't even talk with Al, since his little brother had been avoiding him since he woke up. He wouldn't even answer Ed when he asked something. So, he was left with two soldiers as company while he awaited Winry and the repairs -and likely new injuries- her visit would bring.

Al was there, but only physically. What Barry the Chopper had told him was truly a tricky question. Was he just a puppet made by his 'Brother'? It was a puzzling question. Like the 'Are we really alive, or is our life a dream?' question. He couldn't puzzle it out. Questions like this always served to confuse him, and even more so now since it was his own mind he doubted. He had memories, he remembered his mother, their mother. He remembered training to be an Alchemist. He remembered waking up the night he lost his body, and seeing his brother laying on the ground bleeding and sobbing. He could have sworn he heard his brother scream before his soul was in the armor. But could the words have been part of his false memory?

He could hear the words clear as day; _"GIVE HIM BACK! HE'S MY BROTHER! TAKE MY LEG, TAKE MY ARM, TAKE MY HEART, ANYTHING, YOU CAN HAVE IT! JUST GIVE HIM BACK! HE'S MY LITTLE BROTHER, HE'S ALL I HAVE LEFT!" _

His voice was so heartbreaking. He heard the sob in Ed's voice as he screamed, the tears overflowing. But had it all been an act? His mind wouldn't let him leave the fact alone. Then, before everything with the Lab had started, Ed said he wanted to tell Al something. Was it the fact he was a puppet?

Even once his brother was finally left alone to get some sleep, Al remained lost in thought, his gaze hollow, and body still. As he stared vacantly at his brothers coat, he noticed a small lump he hadn't seen before in the coat pocket, or maybe he had just grown used to seeing it so it was ignored.

Trying not to clank to much, he got up, moving towards the pocket. The square within the red coat was a wrinkled, old piece of paper. He gingerly unfolded it.

As he scanned the words, the part of his mind that told him he was right fought back tears that would pour from a human body. Even his doubts were stilled for the moment.

The words were filled with pain, and so sincere. Ed must have written it right after it happened, he realized.

He pulled the paper to him, hugging it for a brief second, before the doubts poured back and he returned the paper to its former shape.

Al left the room to muse some more. The doubts had returned with stronger arguments that made as much sense as the last time. Maybe Winry could help… or Granny.

Al just wanted to know who he was. If he was a puppet, or a real person. As luck had it, he made an appearance to see Winry, on day two of her arrival, though it ended with him being attacked by a wrench.

That in its self only happened because all the pent up feelings and thoughts Al had been gathering in the past few days had exploded. Exploded into a rant that would almost scream Ed's pain afresh. He watched as Ed's fists clenched, trembling with anger. His slippered feet left the room slowly, not stopping to listen to anyone. One look and people could tell how pained he was. His gold eyes didn't lie.

The second Ed was out of sight a wrench had been procured to beat the tinman with. Tears poured down the blond girls cheeks as she poured out her own emotions, adding in several more beatings. As she beat him, she gave voice to her anger with him, as well as the secret that Ed was to petrified to ask. The tiled floor beneath him would be cold, Al knew, but colder still was what he had said. He accused his brother of fabricating every second of his being. After the toll Ed had paid to even keep him in the world. How could he be a worse sibling? He just hurt his brother deeply, and he wasn't sure he could make up for it. The look of fresh pain in the golden eyes that he knew so well flashed behind his eyes every second he closed them. The words he'd seen earlier had been true. He really was Alphonse Elric. Now he needed to make it up to his brother. In more ways than one.

He rose from the -in theory- cold tile at Winry's order. He was determined to make it up to his beloved brother. And he already had a few ideas; starting with finding Ed on the roof. The unexpected sparring challenge from his brother came as a shock to him, however. As did the ferocity of the attack. He hadn't expected to be faced with this, though he couldn't quite blame the blonde -though he would get scolded later for not being fully recovered yet- considering he needed some way to take out the pent up wrath he no doubt was feeling.

The sparring ended quicker than expected, drawing its conclusion with both boys laying on their backs, staring at the sky. Few words were passed between the two, however, they knew that everything was resolved.

Once Ed had been made up to, Al convinced his stubborn elder sibling to rest. The wounds after all, were still fairly fresh, and just stretched open from the sparring. The moment they reached their room, even Al was getting a headache -which was impossible. No one would leave the siblings alone. Ed had another staring contest with milk, helped narrow down the new mystery people with the tattoos, and King Bradley even paid a visit. Would Al never get a chance to make it up to his brother?

Finally, night fell, meaning everyone got shooed out, and Ed was finally able to fall asleep. Rising from his spot, Al quietly clanked to the folded coat, reaching two fingers inside, he retrieved the scrap of paper and took it to his little corner of the room, a borrowed pen in his hands. He had his own words to add to this tragic poem.

_Don't cry for the past now, brother mine_

_Neither you nor I are free from blame_

_Nothing can erase the things we did_

_For the path we took was the same_

_Beautiful mother, soft and sweet_

_Once you were gone we were not complete_

_Back though the ears we reached for you_

_Alas t'was not meant to be_

_My dreams made me blind and mute_

_I longed to return to that time_

_I followed without a word_

_My brother, the fault is mine_

_So where do we go from here?_

_And how to forget and forgive_

_Whats gone is forever lost_

_Now all we can do is live.._

He was about to add more when he heard the sheets rustle and the form of Ed slowly sat up. "Al?" he asked, looking towards his brother in the dimly lit room.

He froze when he saw the paper in the gloved hands. A discarded pen rolling away from the younger as if protesting its involvement.

That paper. Al had finally found it. The terrible secret of how he felt all those years ago. Ed had hidden that paper carefully though the years, keeping it close to his person, even in his shoe if need be, he'd recently settled on having it in his pocket.. Much to obvious a spot, it would seem. As he stared at the paper, the pain of that day rushed back, along with a feeling of vulnerability. Al already heard how he felt, but it was something else to have his little brother read each thought in his mind after it happened.

It was bad enough he had been chastising himself every second of every day for the past years for letting himself be so stupid.

"Al..Where did you get that?" he asked, his voice tense.

"I'm sorry, Brother." Alphonse started, his tone regretful as he picked up the paper and held it towards his sibling. "I saw it when I was thinking earlier, before we saw Winrey. When I realized it was the truth, I had to reply to you in my own way. I'm so sorry. I never knew you felt like that."

As he spoke, Ed took the paper, accepting the apology with a nod, as his eyes skimmed the added lines of text. He felt his eyes widen at the words. They almost matched his own words. As if Ed himself had wrote it. He felt tears prick at his eyes as he looked towards his brother.

"I didn't mean for you to see this, Al.." he said, his voice cracking. He felt almost violated, but at the same time he felt warmed, relieved to have his secret out.

"Brother.. Please don't blame yourself for this, it wasn't your fault. It was both of us" Al said gently

Ed nodded, slowly folding the paper back up, and putting it back into his coat pocket.

"All we can do is live." Ed repeated slowly, leaning back to get comfortable in the stiff bed. Al's words rang in his head with a certain amount of truth.

He was right. It was time to live, and fulfill their quest to get their bodies back.


End file.
